


Christmas Time in the Monroe Republic

by hithelleth



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, LJ 25 prompts in 25 days, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:29:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which the Mathesons joined Miles and Bass after the Blackout, (almost) no one has died, everyone is one big happy/dysfunctional family, and Christmas is coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> For LJ NBC Revolution community prompt table: 25 prompts in 25 days.
> 
> Note on characters/pairings: I haven't tagged a few minor characters/pairings, which are only mentioned as not to spoil the story and in order not to mess with the filtering.

The white-carpeted ground and cotton-decorated branches softened the noises of the capital, reminding Charlie of the silence of the countryside in the first winters after the Blackout, though there had been no romance in the freezing cold and starvation.

Charlie wrapped her coat tightly around herself and rolled the collar up as she hurried through the park towards the Independence Hall.

The snowflakes strewn over her uniform and hair sparkled as diamonds as they started to melt when she got inside.

She let herself into the war room, flopping down into the armchair beside the grand desk.

“It’s snowing,” she announced.

“I can see that.” Bass pointedly looked out the window. “What are you doing here, Charlotte?”

“Visiting, obviously. Don’t you want me to?”

“Always. But, I’m occupied,” he motioned to the papers covering his desk. “Otherwise, I’d love to entertain you.”

“I’ll make you beg.”

“I'm sure you will. Now, go.”

Charlie frowned, snatching a cookie from the plate in front of her. “I can help.”

“Not with these.”

“What are those?”

“Tax reports.”

“Oh.”

“Some of us actually have to work, unlike those who get their ranks by nepotism, lieutenant.”

“Hey! You said I’d earned it!”

“You did.”

“Of course, I did.” Charlie stood up, sighing. “Maybe I’ll find Jason to play with.”

She straightened her coat, waiting for a response before walking away.

“On second thought, go see Aunt Emma.”

Charlie turned at the door, raising her eyebrows in question.

“She’s baking.” Bass explained.

That was actually a good idea. Charlie’s mouth watered, which didn’t go unnoticed, judging by the smirk she received.

“I’ll see,” she tried to play it cool, “if I don’t run into Jason.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Work well, Uncle Bass. See you.”

Behind the closed door Bass burst into laughter.


	2. Snowman

Although failing at it, Charlie was making an effort not to skip on the way out of the Independence Hall to Aunt Emma’s, as a snowball hit her shoulder.

The insolent shooter and his accomplice laughed in front of the Matheson house.

“You little brat! Just wait...” Charlie threatened, not hiding the affection in her tone as she bent to gather the material for her own snowball and ran in chase of her brother, who suddenly stopped, propping his hands on his knees and gasping for air.

Charlie dropped the snowball, rushing to his side. “Danny, you moron, look what you’ve done! Are you okay? Are you having an asthma attack?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I’m okay, I just need...” he leaned on her for support, “to do this.” and he stuffed a handful of snow behind her clothes.

Charlie shrieked, jumping and flailing her arms.

The boys roared with laughter.

“I'm going to murder you both!”

“Oh, come on, Charlie, where’s your sense of humour?”

Charlie ignored the stupid question, asking her own: “What are you two even doing here?”

“We’re making a snowman, of course.” Danny pointed to the heap of snow.

“You call this a snowman? How old are you, five?”

“Well, then help us.” Mason suggested.

Charlie considered it.

“I was on my way to help your Mom bake.” She hummed. “But I guess I can spare half an hour or else the whole city will laugh at this disgrace.” She looked with disdain upon the heap at her feet. 

“Yes!” the boys high-fived.

“You two start making three decent giant snowballs,” she ordered.

“Yes, madam.”

She turned on her heels. “I’ll find an old hat and scarf, and maybe some buttons…”

“And a broom!” they called after her.

They certainly needed a broom. 


	3. Baking

The dusk had fallen by the time Charlie changed and made it into Aunt Emma's warm kitchen, well-lit and smelling of spices.

Emma greeted her with a hug and promptly put her to cutting cookies from the dough while she made more of it as they chatted away about their day and the holiday preparations.

“Now, that’s the sight – and smell – one likes to come home to.”

"Hi," both women smiled to the man who had just entered. He walked around the table to kiss Emma on the cheek.

Emma kissed him back.  “You’re just in time to help.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I need a pair of strong hands to knead that dough over there,” she pointed to the counter. “Wash your hands and do justice to your last name, Baker.”

“The things I do for you, woman.” He sighed and did as he was told.

Charlie fought not to chuckle, listening to the exchange, though she was used to their ways.

“You know, that’s not the kind of kneading I had in mind for tonight.” Jeremy winked at Emma, as he set himself to the task.

Emma, who might have slightly blushed, tsk-ed.

“Ew, you two are disgusting.” Charlie grimaced. But they were a little cute.

“Says someone who was throwing herself at Bass only an hour ago,” Jeremy teased.

“I was not!” Charlie protested. “I stopped by to say hello, and he was busy, but not too busy to gossip, apparently.”

“It’s not gossip if I saw you practically dancing out of the building and guessed what you’d been up to.”

“Stop it,” Emma intervened, “and work. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Don’t worry, we’re on it. We can’t have anyone say your holiday baking standards have lowered, can we, Charlie?”

“No, we can’t.” concurred Charlie.


	4. Surprise

Miles paused in the hallway.

Someone was in his house. It could have been one of the maids, though those usually came in the morning, and they would probably not be doing what sounded like ransacking his kitchen in the dark.

Miles headed over there, drawing his gun as he burst through the door, aiming it at the intruder only to face the gunpoint himself.

“Surprise?”

“What the hell are you doing breaking into my house?” Miles demanded, lowering his weapon.

“You said I could let myself in whenever I wanted. And you didn’t exactly give me the key, so…” Nora shrugged, putting her own gun away.

“You could have come by the Independence Hall first, or at least sent a word.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Besides, I wanted to wash, change, eat – not just show up there like a starved kitten.”

“A cute kitten,” Miles tried.

Nora slammed one of the cupboards’ doors close. “You don’t have any food.”

“You know I don’t spend much time here. There’s plenty at the Hall though, and I’m sure you can get a hot bath and everything else you want. Bass will be thrilled to see you.”

“Fine. I’ll go beg for scraps.” Nora grumbled, pushing past him into the hallway. “You coming?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and make Bass take a break from the taxes? I’ll be right behind you; I just have to stop by Ben’s first. And, Nora,” he yanked her back by the sleeve of her jacket, barely ducking her fist. “It is a nice surprise. Welcome home.”

Nora glared at him. “Thanks, General.”

Then she softened, pulling him close to give him a peck on the lips.

“Go, do your thing,” she gave him a push, turning away. “I’ll see you soon.” 


	5. Tradition

Maggie opened the door when Miles knocked at Ben’s.

“Are the kids out?” he cut straight to the chase.

“Yes?” Maggie hesitated a moment before she caught on the conspiracy. “Oh, do come in.”

Miles did, producing a package he had been hiding behind his back. “Here. You can unwrap it and put the stuff in the stockings, or under the Christmas tree, whatever you think best.”

Maggie took it from his hands. “You know you didn’t have to.”

Miles shrugged. “No need to break with the tradition even if they are all grown up.”

“Well, they still love gifts.” Maggie granted.

“Little brother,” Ben greeted, coming from his study. “To what do we owe this honour?”

“I’ve come to steal your lady,” Miles joked. He grew solemn at Ben’s expression. “Just kidding, take it easy, Ben. I’ve just brought the presents for the kids.”

“Better be kidding. I’ve forgiven you once, I won’t do it twice.”

“Don’t be silly! And misogynist,” Maggie scolded both. “Do I have to remind you that women are not objects to be stolen?”

“Of course not,” they quickly agreed.

“All right. Behave yourselves.” Maggie left to put the parcel away.

They both shifted their weight from one leg to another.

“So, you’re spoiling the kids with double presents, as usually,” Ben broke the awkwardness.

“Yeah, you know, I have to uphold the tradition.”

“It’s a nice tradition,” Maggie called from the other room.

“It is,” Ben confirmed.

More silence followed.

“Well, I better go,” Miles decided. “Nora’s here. And I should help Bass with work or else I’m not getting any.”

“I so don’t need to know that.” Ben groaned. He walked Miles to the door. “You take care.”

“You too, Ben.”


	6. Tinsel

“Did you see Jason’s face when you dropped that heap of tinsel half on top on him and he realised it was you? It was priceless!” Danny laughed. They were on the way to the cellars to get more of the said material.

“Yep, it’s always fun screwing with him,” Mason agreed.

“Yeah,” Danny nodded, hoping Mason didn’t notice his cheeks heating up.

Which he did. “O, my god, Daniel Matheson!”

“What?”

“You would like to actually screw the lieutenant, wouldn’t you?”

Danny’s face just got hotter. He mumbled something.

“What was that?”

Danny took a deep breath. There it went. “Actually, I thought more of the other way around.” He squinted at his friend. “Too much information?”

Mason was about to reply when two recruits approached their way, carrying boxes.

“Where did they get this stuff, anyway?” one of them complained to the other.

“It was there from before the Blackout, you dumbass.”

Well, that was the official version. The real truth was only known to the chosen few who didn’t spread the story about how generals Monroe and Matheson had once stormed what they had thought to be an ammunition warehouse with a half of the Militia only to find it filled with boxes of tinsel. However, they had made the best of it.

“Anyway,” Mason resumed their conversation, as the recruits disappeared around the corner, “I don’t mind whichever way you swing, or both, or none. Whatever works for you. I got your back.” He gave Danny a slap on the back.

“Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

They entered the storeroom. “Now, let’s get this stuff upstairs. Maybe we can drop some more of it on your boyfriend.” Mason winked at Danny.

“Shut up!” Danny punched him in the shoulder.

They both chuckled.


	7. Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has turned a little smutty. :)

Emma took the last tray of cookies out the oven and put it on the kitchen table to cool. Charlie had already gone home after helping clean up.

“All done?” Jeremy embraced her from behind.

She relaxed against his chest. “Charlie was a big help, we’ve done a lot more than I had planned.”

“What about me?” Jeremy turned her around in his arms. “Didn’t I help?” he pouted.

“Yes, you were a big help, too.”

“Good to know my sacrifices are appreciated.”

Emma made a small happy noise as he backed her against the counter, kissing her deeply.

“You have any other plans for tonight?” Jeremy asked after they had pulled apart.

“Hmm, I could fill the Christmas stockings for the kids at school. You can help.”

“I could. Although I’d rather help you with a different kind of stockings.” He lifted her on the counter. She squealed, quieting as he ran his hands over her thighs.

“I’ve just cleaned everything,” she complained.

“Exactly.” He grinned, slipping his hand under her skirt, his fingers tracing the lacy pattern of her stocking. “I like you wearing these,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling at her earlobe, enticing small happy sounds from her throat.

“I know,” she smiled. They kissed again until they were both breathless.

“Why don’t I help you get these off?” Jeremy suggested, dropping on his knees in front of her. He rolled up her skirt, hooking a finger behind the hem of her stocking, tugging it slowly down.

“Jeremy!”

She gasped as he lowered his head to kiss the skin he exposed inch by inch.

Jeremy smiled against her thigh and sucked a bruise into the delicate skin. Emma moaned, burying her fingers in his hair, and then he made her forget all further objections. 


	8. Greetings

Dad presented them with a letter after dinner, placing it on the table between Charlie and Danny.

“From your Mother,” he explained.

Charlie and Danny glanced at each other.

“You can do it,” Danny allowed.

Charlie opened the letter, reading it with Danny peeking over her shoulder.

“Mom and Aaron will probably be in Philly just in time for Christmas.” she reported.

“That’ great!” Danny cut in. Charlie ignored the interruption, reading on.

“She says they are making progress on their project, so they’ll be going back before the New Year.” Charlie swallowed, hoping her disappointment didn’t show. It was nothing unexpected, after all.

“She says Danny has to be good and obey me…”

“No, she doesn’t!” Danny jumped from his chair and snatched the letter from her. He backed away, running through the already read lines.

“She says we shouldn’t fight,” Danny looked pointedly at Charlie, “and that we should listen to Dad.”

Charlie scoffed.

“Hey,” Dad swatted her forearm, to which she giggled.

“She’s looking forward to seeing us. And she’s sending her greetings to everyone,” Danny finished. He folded the letter and offered it to Charlie.

She waved it off, telling him he could keep it, and excused herself.

Danny followed her upstairs. “You could be happier about Mom coming home for Christmas.”

“I’m happy.”

“But?”

Charlie leaned against the door to her room. “I’ve accepted that she’s always putting her work,” – _and you_ , she thought – “first. But being reminded of that feels…” _Like she keeps abandoning me_.

“Her work is important for the Republic.”

Charlie sighed. Danny always thought he had to defend Rachel.

“So is Dad’s, but he’s always been here.” She shrugged. “Never mind. I’m just tired.”

“Okay.” Danny dropped the subject, heading to his room. “Get some rest then. Good night.”

“Good night.” 


	9. Antlers

“Think about good things,” Charlie told herself, curled up in her bed.

It had been a good day, with good news on top of it, no reason for being unable to sleep. Yet, Mom’s letter took her mind back to the early days after the Blackout.

Only bits and pieces remained in Charlie’s mind: her stomach rumbling, the never abating cold, the ghost settlements Dad had hurried past with the kids while Mom had gone searching for food and anything useful, a herd of dead deer by a lake – probably poisoned with chemicals, their antlers jutting into the air.

Charlie turned in her bed, pushing the memory away, willing herself to think of another, happier one.

_She was racing around the apartment, the images of it blurred with time and distance, screaming on top of her lungs as 4-year-olds do during their energetic outbursts._

_Someone was chasing her, which made her dizzy with a mix of happiness and adrenaline, giggling breathlessly as she ran until a pair of hands picked her up._

_“You, little devil,” the captor called her affectionately, lifting high up under the ceiling, which made her squeal with joy._

_“Not a devil. Little duck,” Charlie corrected him._

_“No, little ducks don’t have these,” Miles held her in one arm, touching the band with plastic antlers on her head Mom had bought her at the gas station that afternoon._

_Charlie followed his motion with her hand, thinking for a second before she plucked the accessory from her hair, thrusting it forcefully on Miles’ head instead, where it stuck askew._

_“You’re a little devil!” she proclaimed._

The grown-up Charlie snickered in her bed.

A feeling of safety and calm washed over her as whenever she thought of Uncle Miles and, clinging to it, her eyes finally drew close. 


	10. Family Reunion

_It was an early spring day: muddy, with a pale Sun piercing the clouds and a cold breeze from the north, in the village the Mathesons spent the winter at – they were just about to move on further East, trying to find out how they could help undo what they had caused – when one of those nasty militias rode in._

_They declared they were there to defend them from an approaching war clan and urged the people to clear the village and take what they could with them._

_Nobody argued._

_The village was history, most likely to be pillaged and plundered by one or both parties or destroyed in the fight._

_Leaving with as much of their possessions as possible was still better than the alternative._

_“Unca Mi!”_

_Rachel shook off Charlie tugging at her sleeve. “Not now, Charlie. If you don’t remember where you put it, you’re gonna have to do without it. You’re too big for a teddy bear, anyway.”_

_“No, Uncle Miles!” Charlie insisted, pointing with her hand._

_The man on the horseback turned in their direction as the shrill voice of the eight-year-old reached him._

_In a few moments he was there, swamped by questions as he picked up Charlie._

_“… gotten yourself mixed up with a militia?”_

_“Look, Ben, there is no time to explain… those guys coming here…” he paused. “You have to go. Head southeast, you should hit our base camp in a day’s walk. Ask for Julia Neville. Blonde, bears herself like a … real lady. Tell her who you are – the truth, she’ll get you settled until we come back.”_

_He put Charlie down, patting her head. “See you soon, little duck.”_

_Then he rushed off, leaving them to hasten gathering their belongings and run with the rest of the villagers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the idea of Unca Mi the Teddy Bear from Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear by Steph_Schell.


	11. School Play

“What were you thinking about?” Maggie placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder.

He turned from the window, hesitating, and then shook his head.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Whatever you think you need to spare me with, you don’t. Again, what were you thinking?”

He studied her for a bit before he replied: “About how fortunate we were we found Miles.”

_It would have been all too easy to miss each other in the commotion. Yes, they were lucky. Their lives could have turned out differently, probably not for the better, if it wasn’t for Charlie. Ben still wondered whether it was because of an old family album – browsed now and again – stuffed in Charlie’s backpack or purely due to Charlie’s attachment to Miles she had recognised him after nearly four years._

Ben pushed his thoughts away, focusing on Maggie. “I didn’t want to remind you…” _Of not finding a way back to your sons._

“It’s all right.”

“How so?”

“If you hadn’t found Miles, you wouldn’t have found me, and,” she touched the side of his face, “you saved me. Gave me reasons to live. Showed me that I can still hope.”

_The sunset on the river was a gift, one last piece of beauty for her before surrendering to nothingness… She just wanted to get rid of the intruder._

_“Ben,” he introduced himself. “My kids have a school play,” he said, “and there will be plenty to eat afterwards.”_

_She didn’t make the connection then, though she had heard of the General’s brother, the scientist._

Ben tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“You know, if – when the truce with Georgia comes through… They boast they are trading with England. Maybe…”

“Maybe.”

Maggie rested her head on his shoulder. Ben kissed her temple and hugged her close.


	12. Fireplace

“Stay put.”

Emma didn’t mind the order, sinking deeper into the cushions, as Jeremy got up from the couch and stalked towards the kitchen. He returned shortly with a plate of cookies and two cups of tea.

Emma took hers, making room for him to settle back beside her.

Jeremy held a cookie in front of her mouth. “Open.”

She did as told, chewed and swallowed.

“I made these for the party.”

“There’s enough for several parties. More?”

She nodded and let him feed her another cookie, washing it down with tea.  

“So, what did I do to deserve this?” she wondered.  

“Being you.”

She smiled, snuggling against him, gazing at the flames dancing in the fireplace as he put his arm around her shoulders.

_She had heard the name before they came by Jasper: the Monroe Militia, led by generals Monroe and Matheson. It could have been someone else. It wasn’t._

_A blond giant stepped in front of her when she approached the restricted area in the town square._

_“You can’t go further, ma’am.” Firm like a wall. Dangerous, she thought._

_“Bass,” she called over the guard’s shoulder, undeterred. “It’s me, Emma.”_

_The guard moved out of her way at barely a flicker of Bass’ hand._

Emma still remembered the words exchanged, although it was only small talk, until…

_“Sir, we’re ready to move out!”_

_Bass gave a nod to the officer. “You’re coming with,” he told her, an order rather than an invitation._

_Panic squeezed her throat. “No.”_

_“No?”_

_“I can’t leave without him –”_

_“Him?” Bass frowned for the shortest moment. “Of course. It’s been a long time.” A mask slipped on Bass’ face as he turned to walk away._

_“My son,” she called after him. He halted. “Our son. My parents wouldn’t let me tell you. Or Miles.”_

_(‘Lose their numbers or the kid. Or us and this house. Your choice.’ That was her father’s ultimatum.)_

_“And then you went missing,” she finished her explanation._

_(Later there was her college and their tours halfway across the world, the accident.)_

_Disbelief in Bass’ eyes was replaced by something unreadable._

_“Captain,” he addressed the tall officer. “Go with her.” A look passed between the two, no further commands necessary._

_“Come on, ma’am.” The arms which turned her around were just as steady and gentle and the eyes she finally met as kind as the man she got to know later. (Even though he was known as the Crazy Baker, the Captain from Hell; even though she knew his reputation was earned by blood on his hands.)_

Putting her teacup away, Emma took Jeremy’s face in her hands and kissed him softly.

“Why did I deserve that?” he echoed her from earlier.

“Just because you’re you.”

“Oh. In that case…” Jeremy grinned, pulling her in for another kiss. They broke it as they heard Mason come down the stairs.

“Uh, um…”He cleared his throat in the doorway. “I’m going next door… or to Dad… somewhere to help… with something. Bye. Later.” He disappeared down the hallway.

“You,” Emma punched Jeremy’s shoulder as they heard the front door close, “chased my son out!”

“Me? Excuse me; you started it.” Jeremy quickly kissed her nose. She laughed.

“Okay, I did,” she admitted, straddling him. “Well, now that Mason’s gone out anyway…”

“Yeah?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I might have a few ideas how to continue.”

“Mhm.”

Emma kissed him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word limit fail, but rewriting 1 x 15 “Home” into something less horrible and deadly required more than 300 words.


	13. Tree

“You can help me with the Christmas tree,” Charlie suggested, letting Mason in.

“Anything,” he agreed. He hung up his coat and followed her into the living room. “As long as I’m out of the house. Mom and Jeremy are in one of their obnoxiously cheesy phases.”

Charlie chuckled. “I know. I was there yesterday. But they are sort of cute.”

“Maybe,” Mason granted. “It’s still awkward. Speaking of awkward, you and my Dad –“

“Are we really having this conversation?”

“I’m just saying: if I ever have to call you stepmom, I’m running away to Texas.”

Charlie spluttered and coughed. “Oh, okay.” After a beat, she added: “Although, I _am_ older than you.”

“Only four months!”

“I remember babysitting you when you first got to Philly,” she teased.

Mason scowled.

_Philly was still in the middle of being set-up. The boy – eleven, just like her – reached just past Charlie’s chin. Uncle Bass’ son, Dad had told her earlier. She was supposed to show him around, look after him a bit. He then followed her every step for a few months._

Charlie smiled fondly.

_Bass bent to meet the boy’s eyes. “Hello, Mason. I’m General Monroe. Your father.” Charlie nudged Mason to shake the offered hand._

Charlie sighed. _Way to go about dealing with a kid_ , Charlie thought in retrospective, _not scary at all._

Not for her, anyway. For Mason, however…

“You listening?”

“What?”

 “As if this isn’t hard enough!” Mason gritted his teeth. “About you and my Dad,” he resumed, “it’s fine with me, if you’re both happy.”

That sounded like he was giving them a blessing. Charlie blushed. “Thanks.” She rummaged in the box with the decorations she and Danny had made or got over the years. “Can we change the subject now?”

“Yes, please.”

They both laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably add I borrowed Mason from Steph_Schell’s universe(s) as well. And I made Bass, Miles, Emma (and Mason/Bass’son) 5 years younger than on the show. It feels more realistic to me. ~~Don’t let me start on the ages.~~.


	14. Gloves

Before sitting down for breakfast, Bass gave Miles a neatly folded bundle: “An early Christmas present.”

“Gloves?” Miles chuckled. “Hand me my coat.”

Bass looked confused, but he complied.

“For you,” Miles produced a similar item from one of the pockets, flashing a triumphant smile.

Bass grinned. “You remembered, too.”

“Ordered them in the spring….”

“Me too, so I wouldn’t forget…”

“Picked them up yesterday.”

“Sent Jeremy to pick them up yester-“

The men laughed and closed the short distance between them, folding each other into a hug.

“I have something else to show you.” Bass extricated himself, crossing the room to get a small box from the dresser.

Miles smiled when he saw the content. “You’ve made the decision. Finally.”

“I have. Can’t resist forever.”

“Not if you’re smart.”

Bass returned the box to its place, his expression rather wistful, which prompted Miles to go on: “She’s been after you since she was sixteen and you’ve been holding yourself back for about just as long. It’s about time you stop denying yourself. And her.”

Bass swallowed. “Listen to yourself, Miles. Keep that up and there will be a speaker out of you yet.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Bass cracked a smile.

Miles put his hands on Bass’ shoulders. “I trust you with her. And I trust her with you. You will be happy, both of you. And if you two are happy, I’m happy.” He wrapped his arms around Bass.

The other man melted into the embrace. “Me, too, Miles. All of it, what you’ve just said. You know that.”

“I do.”

They rested their foreheads together for a few moments.

Miles patted Bass’ shoulder. “Now, let’s go eat. All this talk about feelings made me hungry.”

Bass laughed. He gave Miles a friendly slap on the back. “Let’s.”


	15. Mistletoe

Informed that the President was working in his private quarters, Charlie made her way over there, assuming the ‘not to be disturbed’ part didn’t include her.

She knocked and peeked inside his office. “I just wanted to say hi before work.”

Bass answered with one of those smiles that warmed her all over. “Well, then come in and say hello properly,” he motioned her in, walking over to meet her half-way.

“Not that properly,” he promptly steered her away from the middle of the room, but allowed her to kiss his cheek as he kissed hers.

“It’s a tradition!” Charlie objected, glancing at the mistletoe hanging from the chandelier.

“I know. But I’m not that easy to get.” Bass winked at her. “Come, sit.” He took her hand and led her to the chaise lounge under the window.

He studied her awhile after they had sat down.

“What are we going to do, Charlotte?” he asked.

Charlie shrugged. “We’ll see? What happens happens,” she suggested.

Bass ran a finger over his lips.

“Your Dad will kill me.”

“No, he won’t,” Charlie disagreed. “I won’t let him.”

Bass grinned. “Miles?” he continued. “You know that…”

“I know,” Charlie hurried. “Miles won’t mind. And I don’t mind, either. I mean, Mathesons can share,” she blurted out.

Bass laughed. “Well, I don’t mind being shared by certain Mathesons.”

“Good.” Charlie rested her head against Bass’ shoulder. She felt his lips on top of her head.

After a beat, she sighed and straightened. “I better go.”

“You better.” Bass walked her to the door. He opened it, catching her wrist to hold her back. “Wait for Christmas,” he whispered.

He didn’t offer anything more, just smiled and let go of her. “Bye, Charlotte.”

Charlie exhaled. “Okay. Bye.” Bass closed the door behind her. 


	16. Anticipation

_Wait for Christmas._

Charlie didn’t have much time to wonder about what the words were supposed to mean. Yet, they lingered at the back of her mind throughout the day, filling her with excitement, and time flew by.

Finishing her duties, she wrote up and handed in her reports and was just leaving when she bumped into Miles.

His face lit up when he saw her.

“Heading home?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll walk with you.” He fell in step beside her. As usually, Charlie found his silent presence comforting.

“Excited about Christmas?” Miles asked, eventually.

“Why?” _Did Miles know something? Of course, he did._ _However, apparently he meant other things._

“Presents, Mom coming home? Some free time?”

“I am.” She meant it. Getting some useful things was always great; though she knew some people – specifically, Miles – had probably gotten her something just to spoil her. And it would be nice to see Mom (Still, she tried not to expect too much from Rachel. For all she knew Mom might just spend the holidays mulling over some science thing.)

“Everything okay? You seem a little…” Charlie smiled as Miles searched for the right word.

“It’s just been a long day.” That was true.

They stopped in front of the Matheson home.

“You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?” Miles asked.

“Of course.” Charlie assured him.  

Miles nodded.

Charlie rose on her toes and hugged him. “Thanks for the company.”

“Anytime.”

Miles waited until she made her way to the door. She turned and waved, and he raised his hand before he left.

Charlie got inside.

_Wait for Christmas._

The words rang promising. Whatever they meant, she knew one thing.

Bass caved.

Charlie smiled to herself _. It was about time._

She had been waiting for it – they both had – long enough.


	17. Lights

Showing a happy face with Aaron - alternately prattling about his latest potentially breakthrough ideas and his little girls - for company wasn’t hard; but after they dropped him off at his house, Rachel gave up the pretence with a sigh of relief.

With the vanning daylight the windows lit one by one as the wagon made the last stage of the way to the Independence Hall. Unlike the sharp brightness of the electric lighting from before the Blackout, their light was soft and warm.

A snowman stood in front of the Matheson house.

For a moment Rachel pictured two bundled up kids piling up heaps of snow, calling to her for approval…

However, that had never happened. Not with Danny as fragile as he had been in the dirty Chicago before the Blackout. Not in the following winters when play was second to having food and dry lodgings. Not in Philly, where she had holed herself up in improvised labs trying to solve the riddle of how to turn the lights back on.

Everything was always about the lights.

Rachel didn’t blame Ben for finding someone who didn’t get so wrapped into work – the thing they shared – to forget sharing other parts of her life with him, who made time to check the kids’ homework, who had patience left to teach them about life.

Blonde, doctor. Ben’s type.

Rachel couldn’t quite hate the other woman as if she had stolen her life and her kids, because she hadn’t. The place had been there, empty for the taking.

Ironically, after she had learnt of Maggie’s story, Rachel found herself sympathising with her, the woman who had found a family in the one that was Rachel’s.  

The waggon stopped. Rachel climbed down. The grand entrance of the Independence Hall silently welcomed her home. 


	18. Bells

The Republic was not big on religion, but a cross-denominational service was traditionally held in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve, since a midnight mass was too risky security-wise.

Twice a year the city bells, otherwise reserved to sound an alarm, signalled celebration: on Christmas Eve and when marking the beginning of a new year.

As people poured out of the church to the chiming of the bells, friends and acquaintances greeted each other, conveying well-wishes and chatting.

“Mom.” Rachel felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around to face a grinning Danny, his cheeks rosy from the cold air. She hugged him tightly, wondering how her delicate little boy had grown up into this strong young man she now had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

Reluctantly, Rachel let go of him.

Charlie stood by, fidgeting.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi,” Rachel pulled her daughter into her arms as well, ignoring the knot in her stomach that formed at the rather awkward, distant manner of the embrace.

“How are you?” Rachel rubbed Charlie’s arm, looking from her to Danny and back.

“Fine, Mom,” they both assured her. “You?”

“I'm happy to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mom.” Charlie offered her a small smile. There was something different about Charlie. Some sort of elation Rachel hadn’t noticed the last time. _Months ago._ Rachel felt a pang of guilt.

“Come on, let’s not stand here,” Danny put her arm through his, “let’s go get ready for the party. We’ll walk with you.”

Rachel smiled in agreement, extending her free hand towards Charlie. After a moment of hesitation, Charlie took it.

Rachel took a deep breath. Small joys. This moment was one of those, with both of her children close and a chance of – something. 


	19. Turkey

Christmas was a family day. However, on Christmas Eve, the President hosted a party for the inner circle of his officers and their families so they would wait for midnight together.

Musicians were engaged for entertainment, and dancing was expected later in the evening, though for now music served only as a backdrop, providing a pleasant atmosphere alongside the decorations: holly and fir branches with gold and red bows and a Christmas tree with glass baubles which reflected candlelight in a rainbow glow.

Food was first on everyone’s mind, and there was plenty: roast turkey and ham, mashed potato, stuffing, an assortment of pies, and of course, drinks, desserts and cookies.

Emma received many compliments for the latter, beaming with pride. 

“Dear, you have outdone yourself,” Anita Faber declared.

“I had help. Charlie.” Emma shot a teasing glance at Jeremy at her side, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Did you help with the baking, too, Captain?”

“Oh, you know me, Mrs Neville, I do what I can for the Republic.”

“Yes, Jeremy is ever so helpful,” Tom remarked, before promptly striking another line of conversation with John Faber, their wives dutifully listening.

The Fabers and the Nevilles with their ambition and scheming and domestic discords. Somehow, they seemed content with it.

Emma squeezed Jeremy’s hand under the table, thankful that they had so much more than that.

Noticing Rachel standing nearby, looking a little lost, she nudged Jeremy in the ribs and called her over to join them, which Rachel did with a tight-lipped but relieved smile, and soon they were filling her in on the latest events in the capital and in their families.

With people mingling, the room was full of overlapping chatter; the youth grouped together, eyeing the eggnog; and everyone seemed to be having a good time. 


	20. Alcohol

“That had better not be the kind with liquor in it.” Dad pointed at the eggnog in Danny’s hands. He snatched the glass from him and sniffed. “And yet it does. Danny!”

“Oh, come on, Dad!” Danny objected.

“Let him have it, Dad. I’ll make sure it’s just this one,” Charlie stuck up for him.  

“And you, young lady?” Dad eyed the beverage she was holding.

“What?” Charlie made an innocent face. “I’m twenty-one. It’s perfectly legal if I have a drink. It’s not like I’m planning to get drunk.”

Dad stared her down, but found her unrelenting.

“Fine.” He gave Danny his glass back. He squeezed the back of Danny’s neck, partly in affection, partly as a warning. “But just this one.” He looked sternly at both of them, wagging his index finger at them.

“Yes, Dad,” they were both quick to promise.

“Go get one for yourself and Maggie and have some fun,” Charlie added.

“I was on my way to do that.” Dad straightened his shoulders. “All right. Behave. And enjoy yourselves.” He gave them a thin smile and left.

“Oops,” Danny turned to Charlie with a grin after Dad was out of hearing.

“I told you so,” Charlie hissed, swatting his shoulder.

“Not you, too!” Danny wrinkled his nose. “A little sibling support would be appreciated, you know.”

“And what was what I just did?”

“Um, yeah. Thanks for that.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome.”


	21. Scrooge

Nora patted Miles’ upper arm. “Don’t look so serious, Miles. It’s a party.”

“Hey, I’m having a great time.” Miles raised his glass to her. “Though, what’s up with the scrooges?” He pointed with his chin across the room.

”Hey! That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

Miles gave her a crooked smile. “Well, it looks like your sister and Will are plotting the best ways to torture every individual in here. What’s she doing with him, anyway?”

Nora shrugged. “Beats me.”

“I must say lately he does seem more – not sure if happy is the right word. Apparently he has let her help interrogate a few times,” Miles provided. 

“Uh.” Nora shuddered.

“Mia looks happy.” Miles observed and Nora had to admit he was right. “She does.”

“So, Nora,” Bass joined in the conversation, changing its subject. “What’s up with that young, blonde, brash bounty hunter you’ve been hanging out with?”

“Adam? How do you…?”

“It’s my business to know what my subjects are doing.” Bass smirked. “Jeremy saw you.”

“Should’ve known.” Nora scowled.

“Well?”

“We’ve been working together. Dragged that scum Fletcher down to Texas. Where I’ve just returned from.”

“You caught Fletcher for Texas?” Bass didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Yeah. Told them it was a present from the Republic.”

Miles snickered. “And collected their standard fee, didn’t you?”

“Six ounces of diamonds.” Nora laughed. Stupid Texan currency. Not that she minded having the diamonds.

“Speaking of,” she continued. “You wouldn’t mind if I left early, would you? I have a date.”

Bass shook his head. “Not at all, wouldn’t want to stand in the way of the Republic’s best bounty hunter having a good time.”

“Aww. Thank you, Sir. General.” She kissed their cheeks and wished them both goodnight and a Merry Christmas, taking her leave.


	22. Ribbon

It took Bass some time to get across the banquet room, since people stopped him now and again to give him their well-wishes and assurances of their loyalty and, in some cases, just plainly suck up to him. 

He found Charlie just outside in the gallery, leaning against the window frame and gazing at the darkness outside.

She beamed when she saw him. “Hi.”

“Hi, Charlie. Is everything okay? I saw you slipped out…”

“Oh, that.” Charlie waved it aside. “I just needed a break from all that humdrum.”

“Tell me about it.” Bass strolled over to her. “I haven’t even had a chance to say hello to you tonight. And to tell you how exceptionally lovely you are.” As beautiful as always.

“Thank you. It’s Maggie’s Christmas present.” Charlie smoothed her knee-length knitted dress, modestly cut, with long sleeves and a high collar, softly hugging her curves. A ribbon of the same deep blue colour as the dress was braided into her hair, undoubtedly Maggie’s doing as well, accentuating its colour.

Bass leaned against the windowsill next to her, sliding his hand towards hers to play with her fingers.

Charlie accepted the play, smiling.

She chewed her bottom lip, looking like she was about to ask something. Which she did.

“So, about Christmas…?

“What about Christmas?” Bass laughed when she pouted. He covered her hand with his. “You are still coming over in the afternoon?”

“Don’t I always? I think Miles and you have more presents.”

“Maybe.”

“Okay then. I’ll call by.”

“Good.” Bass released her hand. “Ready to go back in? Or else the rumours will spread.”

Charlie scoffed. “Between Mrs Neville and Mrs Faber the rumours have been spreading for years.” She paused. “But I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Bass broke away from the window. “After you.”


	23. Resolutions

Rachel slowly opened her eyes, an uncomfortable tension pulsing behind her temples.

Perhaps she should’ve skipped a drink or two the previous night.

Trying to get up, Rachel noted soreness in her muscles as well as an arm laid across her waist, weighing her down.

She bit back a groan.

_Rachel wrapped her fingers around his wrist, rubbing her thumb over the scarred flesh._

_“Conscripted,” he explained._

_As if she needed to know._

_‘Monroe and Matheson’, she’d heard at the back of her mind as she slid on him, the thought sprouting a spark of possession inside her – she was a Matheson, too – coiling into a knot of fire in her belly that spread into her limbs._

Rachel slipped out of bed, threw a robe on, and went to take care of her business. Then she poured herself a glass of water, standing by the window.

She poked at the unease in her mind. Guilt, she decided, that was what it was. For fooling around, for working too much, for losing her family, for… everything.

Rachel took a deep breath.

It would be a new year soon. New opportunities, they said.

No reason why she couldn’t finally do it all.

She would find a way to get the power back and keep Danny alive.

She would spend more time with the kids. They weren’t kids anymore, but they would need her anyway, especially Charlie, even if she fought it. They were too alike in that way, but she would be there for her; this time, she would.

And she would allow herself to have some fun. Ben had moved on; he seemed happy. Maybe she could do the same.

Rachel looked over her shoulder.

It seemed she had started with number three. She might just as well continue with it. 


	24. Gift

Charlie slept in, unwrapped the rest of the presents, had a nice lunch with Dad, Maggie and Danny, and – she was quite proud of her self-restraint – visited Mom just before going to see Bass.

He received her in his usual manner: with a smile as bright as sunshine, taking both her hands in his and kissing her cheeks.

“So, it’s Christmas.” Charlie made a point to remind him of the fact, trying to go for a teasing rather than excited tone, but mostly failing.

Judging by the smirk on his face, Bass seemed to find it amusing. “So it is.”

He sauntered to the mantelpiece and picked a small box, off it. “Another present.”

Charlie’s breath caught when she opened it: the inside was dressed in blue cloth and the stone set in a band of white gold was blue as well.

She looked at Bass to confirm whether it meant what she thought.

Bass leaned against the mantelpiece with his casual grace, a smile playing around his lips, as he spoke in a low voice.

“Since we are hardly conventional, I thought we’d do this a little unconventionally. For now.” He paused, gauging her reaction.

Charlie waited.

“You put it on. Or not.”

Charlie slid the ring on her finger. Unsurprisingly, it fit. “So, what now?”

“What happens happens.”

Bass simply watched her for a little while, before he reached for her and pulled her close, resting their foreheads together until she closed the last inch between them and kissed him, parting her lips under his.

Sometime later, when they pulled apart, Charlie cuddled against him.

“I want you,” she murmured.

Bass took her face in his hands and smiled softly.

“Not everything has to happen at once, Charlotte.”

“But soon?”

“Soon,” he promised and kissed her some more. 


	25. Red and Green

Rationally, Charlie could tell the minutes passing, although the time seemed to operate by different units: kisses, slow and gentle, hot and intense; pauses between them, catching their breaths; time spent just looking at each other; slow feather-light caresses tracing one another’s features.

Charlie stayed tucked into Bass’ side when Miles poked his head into the room. He deliberated on the doorstep, assessing their stance. His eyes flickered to Charlie’s hand resting on Bass’ chest.

“You’ve come to an agreement,” he observed.

“We have.” Bass confirmed.

Miles’ face slowly broke into his so rare wide grin. He strode forward and clasped Bass’ shoulder. “Congratulations, brother.”

“Thanks.”

Charlie tsk-ed. “I know you can do better than that.”

The two men looked at her quizzically, then chuckled. They exchanged a look before drawing closer for quick, but warm kiss.

Charlie snickered as Miles stared at her.

“You okay with this?” he inquired.  

“A little late for asking that.” Charlie teased. “Don’t I look like I am?” 

“Yes, you do.” Miles exhaled.

He cupped the back of her head. “If he makes you unhappy, I’ll still beat him into a pulp.”

“There will be no need to.” Bass assured, somehow tugging Charlie still a little closer to him.

Miles scoffed. “I hope so.” He kissed Charlie’s forehead, stroking her hair. “Good luck, Charlie. You’ll need it with us.”

“I kinda think I already have it.” Charlie smiled. She sighed happily, resting her head against Bass, and slid her free arm around Miles’ waist and he put his arm around her and hugged both of them tightly.

***

As if in one of those pre-blackout red-wrapped boxes with a green bow on top, the future lay at their feet, all nicely tied up with the past; a new beginning as much as a story continued.

~FIN~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finished it _only_ a month late. :) It was quite a challenge doing this, plotting everything so that it would be all connected and trying to stay within the word limit. However, writing this taught me word limit can be very useful as it forced me to pick carefully what to say and how to say it and I hope it improved my writing a little. Or you tell me, did it? Also, writing this served as an escape through some rough patches in RL, which makes even more valuable to me. 
> 
> I didn't think this fic would get so much attention so thank everyone for leaving comments and kudosing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Even though it sometimes felt like I was searching for the right words in a stack of hay.)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, so tell me if you see something. Comments are always welcome.
> 
> What did you think?


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